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had seen it, and Damaris had been distracted with some deep torment of her own long before Alexandra had followed Thaddeus upstairs. And why the rage at Maxim?

But then if the motive for the murder was something other than die stupid jealousy Alexandra had seized on, perhaps Damaris knew what it was? And knowing it, she might have foreseen it would end as it did.

Why had she said nothing? Why had she not trusted that Peverell and she together might have prevented it? It was perfectly obvious Peverell had no idea what troubled her; the expression in his eyes as he looked at her, the way he half spoke, and then fell silent, were all eloquent witness of that.

Was it the same horror, force, or fear that kept Alexandra silent even in the shadow of the hangman's rope?

In something of a daze Hester left the table and together with Edith went slowly upstairs to her sitting room. Damaris and Peverell had their own wing of the house, and frequently chose to be there rather than in the main rooms with the rest of the family. Hester thought it was extremely long-suffering of Peverell to live in Carlyon House at all, but possibly he could not afford to keep Damaris in this style, or anything like it, otherwise. It was a curious side to Damaris's character that she did not prefer independence and privacy, at the relatively small price of a modest household, instead of this very lavish one. But then Hester had never been used to luxury, so she did not know how easy it was to become dependent upon it.

As soon as the door was closed in the sitting room Edith threw herself onto the largest sofa and pulled her legs up under her, regardless of the inelegance of the position and the ruination of her skirt. She stared at Hester, her curious face with its aquiline nose and gentle mouth filled with consternation.

"Hester - it's going to be terrible!"

"Ofcourse.it is," Hester agreed quietly. "Whatever the result, the trial is going to be ghastlyT Someone was murdered. That can only ever be a tragedy, whoever did it, or why."

"Why ..." Edith hugged her knees and stared at the floor."We don't even know that, do we." It was not a question.

"We don't," Hester said thoughtfully, watching Edith's face. "But do you think Damaris might?"

Edith jerked up, her eyes wide. "Damaris? Why? How would she? Why do you say that?"

"She knew something that evening. She was almost distracted with emotion - on the verge of hysteria, they said."

"Who said? Pev didn't tell us."

"It doesn't seem as if he knew why," Hester replied."But according to what Monk was able to find out, from quite early in the evening, long before the general was killed, Damaris was so frantic about something she could barely keep control of herself. I don't know why I didn't think of it before, but maybe she knew why Alexandra did it. Perhaps she even feared it would happen, before it did."

"But if she knew ..." Edith said slowly, her face filled with distress and dawning horror. "No - she would have stopped it. Are you - are you saying Damaris was part of it?"

"No. No, certainly not," Hester denied quickly. "I mean she may have feared it would happen, because perhaps what caused her to be so terribly upset was the knowledge of why Alexandra would do such a thing. And if it is something so secret that Alexandra would rather hang than tell anyone, then I believe Damaris will honor her feelings and keep the secret for her."

"\fes," Edith agreed slowly, her face very white. "Yes, she would. It would be her sense of honor. But what could it be? I can't mink of anything so - so terrible, so dark that. . ." She tailed off, unable to find words for the thought.

"Neither can I," Hester agreed. "But it exists - it must - or why will Alexandra not tell us why she killed the general?"

"I don't know." Edith bent her head to her knees.

There was a knock on the door, nervous and urgent.

Edith looked up, surprised. Servants did not knock.

"Yes?", She unwound herself and put her feet down. "Come in."

The door opened and Cassian stood there, his face pale, his eyes frightened.

"Aunt Edith, Miss Buchan and Cook are fighting again!" His voice was ragged and a little high. "Cook has a carving knife!"

"Oh - " Edith stifled an unladylike word and rose. Cassian took

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